


To Camelot

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Camelot, Costumes, F/F, Femslash, Getting Together, Holodecks/Holosuites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerys is trying hard to understand Jadzia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Camelot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinlizzy2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/gifts).



If Jadzia was completely honest with herself - and she did try to be - a small but not insignificant percentage of her keenness to get Nerys to try the Camelot program was based on a desire to see her in a dress.

The yearning for the new and different was one of the most consistent traits of the Dax symbiont. When she’d been Jadzia she’d been ambitious, intelligent, driven - but she hadn’t exactly been the most adventurous of people. But now she craved the novel and the strange with an intensity that would have shocked the old Jadzia.

The more she saw of Nerys’ sensible boots, her uniform that she wore almost all the time even when she was off duty, the more Jadzia wanted to see her in something else, something completely different. Not that the uniform wasn’t appealing - Jadzia had been known to blush like a schoolgirl and look away when Nerys bent over to look at a console -  but there was merit to the old Earth saying about variety being the spice of life.

* * *

Nerys hated the dress. It made her trip, she had to carry handfuls of it so that she could see where she was putting her feet, and then she couldn’t carry anything else. It was heavy, it dragged at her. The bodice squeezed her and the fabric was itchy. It sat awkwardly and tickled her collarbone and her knees when she moved. The wimple dug into her skull and she longed to pull it off and itch where it sat. Her hair felt sweaty.

‘Isn’t this fun?’ said Jadzia.

Nerys summoned a smile from somewhere. Somehow when Jadzia was around she kept doing things that she would never normally do - but how could she refuse that puppyish enthusiasm, the delighted grin, the casual arm around her shoulder that sent a thrill down her spine to her core? It was possible to say no to Jadzia, but she never, ever wanted to.

Which was why they were now feasting in King Arthur’s hall with a load of noisy, irritating imaginary people.

‘That’s Lancelot,’ Jadzia said under her voice. ‘You’ll be seeing a lot more of him later.’

* * *

Following what would shortly afterward become generally known as the Lancelot Incident - Miles and Julian were the worst gossips on the station - the two of them headed back to Jadzia’s quarters to put the costumes away.

‘We’ll keep them here until next time,’ said Jadzia.

‘Next time?’ asked Nerys.

She sat heavily on Jadzia’s bed and put the wimple down beside her.

‘Oh, come on Nerys - don’t let this scare you off!’ Jadzia said, sitting in the bed beside her. ‘It’s just for fun.’

‘Well, maybe I don’t want to have fun!’ Nerys snapped.

Jadzia raised her eyebrows.

‘I’m sorry...’ said Nerys, massaging her temples with her fingertips. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate the effort that you’ve gone to, I just... I didn’t really want to be kissed by Lancelot.’

‘That’s ok!’ said Jadzia. ‘We can program someone else for you. He could be taller, or darker, or heavier, or he could be female or some other gender, or he could...’

‘Jadzia, stop.’

The sudden silence felt heavy to Nerys.

‘It’s not really about that,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I want to kiss holosuite characters at all. I mean... they’re not real and it... doesn’t make me feel good.’

Then, suddenly, a finger gently on her chin, turning her head, Jadzia’s eyes close to hers. Nerys jumped back. Frustration and confusion and annoyance clashed with something new, something that she had thought was private, thought she’d hidden. It was like a sudden bright light when she’d expected a candle.

‘No?’ Jadzia asked.

‘I have to go,’ said Nerys.

She was still wearing the dress. She almost tripped on the hem on her way out.

* * *

Jadzia got out of her own dress as quickly as she could, shrugging it onto the floor and kicking it under the bed to deal with later. It made her hot with embarrassment just to look at it, and that wasn’t a feeling she was used to any more.

She shrugged on a robe against the chill, ordered a drink from the replicator.

It wasn’t as though she’d never been rejected before. It happened, you moved on. But the way Nerys had spoken to her. _Maybe I don’t want to have fun_. Was she forcing all this on Nerys? Could it be wrong to encourage her friends to share the things she enjoyed?

It occurred to her that it was very Curzon, to sweep people along and expect them to just get caught up in the flow. But it had always worked for Curzon, and it had more or less always worked for Jadzia, until now. But she hated the thought of Nerys pretending to have fun just to make her happy, hated the idea of her smiling and waiting to be done.

* * *

Nerys had asked her to meet upstairs at Quark’s, at seven. They hadn’t seen each other for three days - not by design but because of their busy work schedules. Jadzia had spent most of those three days wheedling, begging and bribing her way to two tickets to a hot springball match between two of Bajor’s best players, and she was hoping it would make a nice peace offering.

When Nerys arrived, she had to come all the way up to the table and cough before Jadzia noticed her.

‘Oh... Nerys...’ Jadzia breathed. ‘You look...’

‘Ridiculous?’ Nerys suggested, but she was grinning.

She was wearing a dark red tabard, belted at the waist, over soft tan breeches. Under the tabard, her arms and chest were covered in fine chain mail. She wore black boots that reached her knees and she carried a shield.

‘There’s a sword that goes with it, too,’ she said, ‘but you know how Odo is about weapons on the Promenade.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Jadzia, ‘I thought you were done with the holosuites?’

Nerys propped her shield on the table and leaned on it contemplatively.

‘I thought about it,’ she said, ‘and I realised that I don’t dislike them, I’d just rather spend my time with you than with some holographic oaf. And I’d rather do it feeling comfortable, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still try something new.’

Jadzia laughed and rose. ‘Join me in the holosuite, my lady?’ she said, with an elaborate curtsey.

‘I’d love to,’ said Nerys, ‘but shouldn’t you be dressed for it first? Just because I don’t want to wear some fancy gown, it doesn’t mean I don’t want _you_ to.’

* * *

Nerys wouldn’t have guessed that someone could go all the way to their quarters, change into an elaborate costume and get back so fast. Jadzia was panting a little when she arrived at King Arthur’s hall. It was empty now, the feasters gone. Nerys was sitting on the Round Table itself, with her booted feet planted on one of the chairs.

‘You look beautiful,’ Nerys said, and the delight that lit Jadzia’s face made her smile in return.

‘So do you,’ said Jadzia, and she moved closer. ‘Look, I’m sorry I made you wear that dress, I feel awful about it, I even got you springball tickets to apologise...’

‘You did?’

‘Yeah, for the Kalim VS Nicora match next week.’

‘Jadzia, are you serious? Those tickets are like gold dust!’

Jadzia shrugged modestly.

‘I’ll have to rearrange my duty shifts...’ Nerys muttered, ‘and reschedule that meeting... hmm... maybe I can ask someone to take it for me, but then if I don’t...’

‘Nerys?’ Jadzia nudged. ‘Camelot?’

‘Oh!’ Nerys looked around them. ‘Of course, sorry. Camelot now, springball later. So... I admit I could have been paying more attention last time. What do knights and ladies do in this scenario?’

‘Well, it all depends who you believe,’ said Jadzia. ‘Historical documents or sensational stories or dramatised adaptations... but in this particular program, the dashing knight generally gets the girl.’

‘Oh,’ said Nerys. ‘And does the knight have to do anything in particular to impress her?’

‘I think the knight already has her in the palm of her hand,’ said Jadzia.

Nerys pulled her close, lacing their fingers together. She lifted her face to Jadzia’s and their lips met with soft, warm pressure that made Nerys shiver. She wrapped her arms around Jadzia’s waist and drew her in further, holding tight. The chain mail was cold, hard on her arms where they pressed together, and Jadzia’s hands were cold and soft on her neck. Nerys gasped as Jadzia pushed her backwards and down onto the table, then climbed up to sit astride her, pushing the heavy folds of her skirt aside from Nerys’ face.

Fantasies had their place, Nerys conceded. But there was nothing like the real thing.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] To Camelot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385053) by [silly_cleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_cleo/pseuds/silly_cleo)




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